There are so many things I know I'd love to look up in the parenting manual had I ever been given one when any of my five children were born. You know, things like how to keep your toddler from throwing food on the floor, easy tricks for potty training or maybe even how to convince them that a clean room is the only way to go. Much to my dismay, no such book exists. So instead of sulking this morning about an unfortunate incident, I thought I'd share it to help other parents realize that they aren't alone.
Last night I had fallen asleep on the couch watching television. My husband was sleeping in the bedroom along with my one year old. He's been sleeping in his playpen in there temporarily (the baby, not the husband). The hubby woke me up before he went to work this morning and told me the baby, Q, had a bad night. He's cutting some molars, so it's to be expected.
At about 8am I heard the little guy screaming. Not continuous screaming, but a shout here and there. I finally roll off of the couch and head up there to get him. I walk in and the first thing I see is his eenie weenie wee-wee. No diaper. I look a little to the right and I find the diaper. He had thrown it out of the playpen and so kindly onto the hubby's guitar case, pee pee side down.
Most parents' first reaction would be to rush to the diaper, collect it up and Clorox wipe the crap out of the guitar case. Not me. I take a more outside of the box approach and take an iPhone picture of the crime scene. I send it off to my husband and make sure he notices where the diaper landed. As I'm standing there texting back and forth with him I begin to smell an oh so familiar smell. It's a smell only a mother can truly hate with every fiber of her being. Poo. This definitely complicates the crime scene.
How did I not notice it before? Maybe he had just done it? I finally pick up the diaper and see that there are poop remnants in the diaper that was pee pee side down on the guitar case. Where is it? Where? I glance over into the playpen and I finally see it.... the little turd (the actually poop and not the baby). It must have blended in with his oh so convenient jungle scened playpen mattress. None-the-less, there it was.
Now I have a bigger problem on my hands. As a parent you quickly learn that when it rains it pours. It was about to get torrential. Q has a really bad habit when he gets angry. He does some very dramatic body turn and he throws himself down. Well, because I wanted to do some cleaning up before I removed him from the playpen he got mad at me. Pissed off even. I watch him as if it was in slow motion. He turns, screams and throws himself down.... ON THE POO. Really? Life was that terrible that you wanted to drown yourself in poo? C'mon kid.
So, after everything got scrubbed down and Q had a pleasant morning bath (yea, his life really sucks) life is now back to normal... until the next event occurs that will no doubt leave me in disbelief for days.
Here's the tip that should be in the parenting manual, if anyone ever makes one. Please, oh please, make sure you put pants on your kid at bedtime. Hell, not just at bedtime, at ALL times. Never should any kid be with out pants. If not, there's no telling what repercussions you could face!
P.S. Just so you know I'm not making this all up (as if I'd totally want to):